


green

by taegg



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations
Genre: Multi, highschool!au, unrequited!Inojin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 09:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21013607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taegg/pseuds/taegg
Summary: Inojin thinks he's a coward, and that he's not supposed to love (certain people).





	green

Inojin meets Himawari in the Yamanaka nursery, on a heavy summer day. The air sticks to his bare arms, he feels lethargic, and his elbows stick to the receipt book. He thinks that she’s so little, but she has wide eyes that glimmer. He greets Hinata (_ okaasan _ ) like his own mother tells him to, and then he says hello to Himawari. Hinata nudges her daughter forwards, says that Inojin isn’t scary (he agrees, _ Sarada is scary. He’s the furthest thing from that _). He asks something that he already knows - how old is she? 

She pipes up that she’s four, and she holds up the fingers. Inojin laughs good-naturedly, and offers his own age (_ he’s eight _). He looks up to notice that he’s suddenly become a babysitter, while their mothers wander down the store aisles. His own mother gestures to a few indoor plants and gives recommendations, before forgetting about making a sale as they gossip about something or other. Inojin feels an urge to roll his eyes, but he knows Himawari is watching. 

He says he’s going to show her something, and she’s curious and follows him around the shop obediently. He glances at the sunflowers but he doesn’t go for them. It’s stereotypical. You don’t give a girl the flower she’s named after. It feels cheap. He picks out a white gerbera. It’s bright and bold and cheerful. He kneels to offer it to her, “for you.” 

She _ beams _ , and grasps the stem with both hands, “ _ arigatou _ Yamanaka-kun!” 

“Inojin is okay.” 

Himawari sticks to that for a couple of years, but she grows up quickly enough, and he becomes Inojin-kun. She greets him (and all the other boys) when they cross paths on the way to school. She’s only just started middle school when they’re all in high school, and Boruto makes a big deal about them watching out for her because she’s too nice to everyone, and all the middle school boys _ must _think she’s cute. Shikadai says Boruto’s weirdly overprotective and coddles his kid sister. The other boys laugh. Inojin silently thinks that she’s at least a little cute. 

They hear about boys in her grade giving her gifts on white day. She swears up and down to Boruto on the walk home that she only made chocolates for the boys in her class - and everybody got the same thing, it’s not like she _ likes _ anyone. 

Inojin hangs back with Shikadai, catching snippets of the siblings’ conversation. He’s strangely relieved when he reaches the intersection where he parts ways with his friends. He says his usual goodbyes and smiles at Himawari. She says goodbye to him specifically (_ Jaa ne Inojin-kun! _). He finally starts breathing when he loses sight of them around the corner. 

_ Whats wrong with you? _ He quickens his pace down the street, thinking purposefully that this doesn’t mean anything. _ She’s cute _ . The thought lingers, and he chooses to let it fade, like a stray dandelion seed disappearing in the wind. By the time he’s home, calling out _ tadaima, _he’s forgotten about it entirely. He’s swept up in the rhythm of the Yamanaka household. Ino reminds him to hang up his jacket properly and to make a start on his English homework (his worst subject), then orders him to set the table. He grumbles like always, and Ino light-heartedly complains about him giving her attitude. Sai comes home and wraps his arms around Ino’s waist, smiling next to her ear. Inojin has watched this process hundreds of times over, and silently thinks how gross and wonderful it is while he scoops rice into their bowls. 

Sai wakes Inojin up early on Saturday. Inojin’s subconscious expects it now, and his eyes are usually open before Sai knocks and enters. The father and son pair blearily get ready in the early hours of the morning, pulling on jumpers and lacing up their boots silently. They talk a little in the car. Sai asks about how things are at school, is Inojin treating his friends well? Any girls? Inojin feels like the last one is a joke, so he just grunts and rolls his eyes, and Sai gives him an odd look. “So … girls?” 

Inojin sighs, a little irritated, “None. Nobody.” 

Sai smiles forwards at the empty roads, “So … boys.” 

Inojin sighs more, “No.” 

Sai says it was worth a try and chuckles. 

Inojin is used to freezing cold hands on Saturday mornings now. He’s apparently still too immature to be helping with the delivery from the flower markets, so his first task of the day is hauling out buckets and filling them with water. He wears earphones and listens to something while he does this most times, but he forgets this time, and so he finds his mind wandering. 

He thinks about the usual things - like how he's going to find the time to finish his history essay, and how many more weeks will it take him to move up a rank in _ League of Legends _ . He feels stupid for playing sometimes (he's probably the worst out of his friends), but Boruto is hard to say no to and they laugh _ a lot _ over Discord. He thinks about whether to cut his hair - he knows other kids (definitely) laugh about his ponytail, but he kind of can't bring himself to cut it (and his grandfather, and all the other fathers before him seem to have grown into the style). An Shikadai has a similar thing going on, but he manages to pull it off. Inojin’s kind of jealous to be honest, Shikadai has the effortlessly cool thing down - emphasis on _ effortless _. Inojin glances at his faint reflection in the shop window, and once again semi-seriously considers getting a normal haircut. 

He turns away from the glass to line up the buckets. His arms ache. He thinks about Chō Chō’s deadlifting instagram videos (he doesn’t even understand how she’s even _ allowed _ into the gym, because they’re sixteen, and minors can’t be getting gym memberships). Then he thinks about the entire Akimichi family, and he faintly remembers seeing pictures of a younger Chōji in competition, and of course, everything makes sense again. Inojin is jolted out of this trail of idle Saturday morning thoughts when his father wheels in the trolley overflowing with the morning delivery. 

Weekends are always busier than weekdays, and Inojin’s glanced at the order list and it’s predictably _ lengthy _. A lot of birthday bouquets, a couple of anniversaries, some arrangements for a new business in the area. Arrangements are really Ino’s thing, but the order needs to be done by 9:00am on the dot, so Sai clears the main benchtop and starts setting out the florals they need. Inojin wordlessly starts unloading the usual stock - gerberas, lilies, chrysanthemums, roses. He adjusts the bunches in their buckets, spreads them out a little for fullness. He double backs behind the counter, trying to remember where he left the price tags. He steps quietly through the store, hauling out the next batch - snapdragons, anemones, tulips - sunflowers. He blinks. He places them in their respective buckets of water, a gentle sloshing, the morning ticks on. 

Sai calls out to Inojin to open up. He steps over to the door, flipping over the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’, fumbling the keys into the doorknob with numb fingers (it’s always so cold, he should really start wearing gloves). Then he sees her - dark-haired and bright eyed, feet off the pedals, legs outstretched as she glides on that bike, braking in front of the door. Inojin smiles good-naturedly as he pulls the door open, “Ohayou, Himawari-chan.”

She smiles brightly as she alights. Inojin notices slender limbs as she swings her leg over the bike (he really hates himself a little - that he notices) and her regional gymnastics jacket. It’s an obnoxious orange and blue thing with white piping, and ‘Konohagakure Regionals’ in thick, blocky text across the back. He recalls being part of the family and friends cheer team for Himawari when she was younger, but he certainly hasn’t seen her compete recently. 

She greets Inojin cheerly and starts to explain why she’s there (it’s a teammate’s birthday soon, and the girls decided last minute - she rolls her eyes - that they should get her flowers, and the Yamanaka nursery is on the way to training, so here she is) - she’s sorry that she’s here so early - Inojin smiles kindly and reassures here that they are indeed, open - and she starts to list what she’s looking for and apologises for being so specific. Inojin laughs a little as they stand in front of the cut flowers, picking out what would suit her teammate best. Inojin has intrusive thoughts (_ she’s cute _), and gives her a slightly better than average customer service smile as he gathers up her choices and starts to rearrange them into a proper bouquet. 

Sai steps away from his work to put through Himawari’s payment, and he asks her the usual parent to child questions, like how is she liking middle school, how is her family? Himawari answers without skipping a beat (she likes school, but she’s so terrible at sciences, and her _ touchan _has harvested a lot of tomatoes recently). Inojin focuses on wrapping string around the base of the bouquet. He goes around a few extra times more than usual. 

Inojin hands over the bouquet and Himawari bows as she thanks him. For some reason, it makes him uncomfortable. He’s not sure why. She starts to turn away, and Inojin’s brain short-circuits - “Ah - wait a sec - hold on -”

Himawari stops in the middle of her movements, turning back, curious, “Oh?” 

He hands her an orange tulip - it’s a little unceremonious, his movements are so hasty, “it’s on the house.” Inojin laughs, and he hopes it sounds cool, not nervous. 

She takes it, smiling wide. Inojin thinks she blushes a little - but he can’t tell, he really can’t remember, it’s all too much. “Arigatou Inojin-kun.” She waves as she heads out, tucking the flowers into the basket at the front of her bike. 

Inojin can’t see, but Himawari is blushing _ furiously _ as she pedals away. 

Boruto doesn’t greet him like he normally does at school the next day, and Inojin doesn’t really think much of it in the morning. But when the boys meet for lunch as usual, Boruto is still decidedly kind of sulking, and Inojin can’t understand why. “What are you pouting about?” 

Boruto looks up sharply from his bento, and almost, positively _ glares _ at Inojin. “Nothing,” he says, in a way that plainly indicates that it’s _ not _nothing, and Inojin had better watch his back. Shikadai blinks as he watches the exchange, and returns his focus to his egg rolls. 

Inojin puts on his best Sai Yamanaka face (the pretty smile that doesn’t really reach the eyes) and chuckles, “Okay.” Internally, the pieces are starting to fall into place. 

Inojin gets the full picture when he arrives at home, keys in the door, muttering _ fuck _ under his breath. _ It’s the fucking tulip _ , he thinks darkly as he pulls his shoes off, _ fuck, fuck, fuck _ . He forgets to call out ‘tadaima’, Ino berates him for his failure to announce his arrival, and he has to make up a story about being stuck on his visual arts assignment as explanation for his silent arrival home. In bed that evening, he rolls his eyes as he thinks about stupidly over-protective Boruto, then he thinks about how _ she’s cute _, and then their four-year age gap, and then maybe Boruto is right after all. 

Inojin sighs - kind of strangled - and rolls over to his side to face the wall. He really does feel terrible in that moment, but he also wonders if it’s so _ wrong _ to just think - _ she’s cute _ . He stares at the wall a little longer - or maybe a lot longer (he’s not really sure) - and he decides that actually it _ is _ wrong, and maybe he should apologise (but to who? Himawari? Or to Boruto? Or both?). 

He thinks he’s a coward, and he doesn’t end up apologising to any of the above. 

Instead, he starts avoiding Boruto by hanging out with Shikadai, and orchestrating situations to make it work. Inojin has a suspicion that Shikadai probably knows what’s going on, and is just indulging his cowardice. 

Boruto messages the group chat a similar kind of thing every summer - gatherings at the stream, let’s kick a ball around, barbeques at his place. Inojin asks Shikadai if he wants to ditch the physical activity and sit with him at the Yamanaka house (I’m painting, you can read or sleep or whatever). Shikadai is quiet for a little longer than normal (Inojin _ thinks _ that, but like a lot of things, he isn’t sure) and says yes. They spend the next day on the porch, humid air clinging to the backs of their shirts and the hollows of their elbows. Shikadai starts off with a book, and Inojin leaves him to it as he starts with a pencil sketch. He paints the garden every year because it turns out he’s sentimental like his _ touchan _, and it’s a good measure of his skills. Inojin also feels at ease painting with Shikadai, because he doesn’t tease like any of the other boys. Inojin finds comfort in that it isn’t just that Shikadai can’t be bothered to tease - rather Shikadai chooses to just let him be. 

Shikadai’s book is opened onto his face as the sun starts to dip, and Ino calls out that she’s heading out. Inojin waves to his mother a little absent-mindedly, absorbed in the greens that make up their lawn. Sai has shown him how to create depth - it’s not just _ green _, it’s deep green, and bright green, and also warm greens. There are browns and greys and yellows and oranges, and if Inojin really wants to get good at this, he has to start seeing it. He’s starting to get it, there are some patches that are better than others. He pulls the work in progress away from himself, then draws it closer. Inojin knows that he sees some things better further away, and others up close. He sees that it needs work. 

Inojin mumbles under his breath, and Shikadai cracks open an eyelid and pulls the book off his face, “You okay?”

Inojin is quiet for a moment, “Yeah.” He pauses some more, “yeah, yeah - it’s fine.” 

Shikadai sits up properly, peering over at Inojin’s work. 

Inojin notices the movement in his periphery, and he purposefully doesn’t turn to look. There’s a part of him that’s convinced that he’ll find disapproval in Shikadai’s eyes, even though he’s never ever been judgemental about anything Inojin does. It’s stupid, Inojin thinks _ he’s _stupid - 

“Hey, don’t stop. Keep painting. Oh yeah, I can look away -” 

Inojin kind of doesn’t mind if Shikadai watches. “Nah. It’s okay.” He picks up the brush again. 

He doesn’t finish the painting that day. He does later in the summer, when Shikadai is beside him on the porch again. He’s plugging along on his DS - some old game that he’s cleared before, but he’s mentioned that he wants a better score. Inojin is up to filling in the sky now, but he’s waiting for the sun to dip further. He leans back, letting the paint dry and looking over at Shikadai. It’s a strategy game, he can see pieces and options for their movement over Shikadai’s shoulder. 

Shikadai clears the level, and turns to Inojin, “Why aren’t you painting?” 

“Oh,” Inojin straightens up, “I’m waiting for the sunset.” 

“Can’t you imagine it?” 

“Yeah,” Inojin shrugs, “but it’s not the same.” 

Shikadai nods, “Yeah I kind of get that.” 

Inojin itches to ask follow-up questions, but he loses his nerve (because he’s a coward). The pink and red and purple sunset arrives, and he rushes to fill up the space in his work while there’s an emptiness in his chest. 

Boruto asks everyone to meet up to go to the festival - and they’ve gone every year - _ everyone _always goes - so there’s really no getting out of it. Inojin is nervous as he shrugs on the deep purple yukata, wondering if Boruto is going to give him that look again. He thinks about how Himawari is probably going to be there. He gulps, then reminds himself that there's other people to create a buffer. Like Shikadai and Chō Chō. It's going to be a good time. It's fine. 

He's right about that, it turns out. They do have a good time. Inojin greets everybody with a genuine smile, and he really means it when he asks Boruto how he's been. Boruto answers swiftly and cheerfully, almost as though that thing about Himawari never happened, and Inojin wonders if his absence over the summer has satisfied Boruto. 

It's probably not a healthy friendship, Inojin thinks as he watches Chō Chō and Sarada compete for goldfish. Boruto has a golden glow and an unbridled cheerfulness that is hard to turn away from. Everyone likes him. He welcomes everyone. He tries hard not to hold grudges, and his apologies have always been genuine. But Inojin understands that Boruto’s anger lingers. Inojin used to think that it was funny and stupid - how Boruto was so stubborn. Now, having mulled it over all summer, Inojin is wary. 

But Inojin also doubts his own thoughts, and wonders if he's just scared, or if he's ashamed of himself and he's actually just projecting. He's a creep who thought Himawari was cute - Boruto _ must _ hate him at least a little. He hates _ himself _ a little for that. 

It is amongst the flow of these thoughts that the group starts to move down the main pathway of stalls, and Inojin is jolted out of his thoughts as Shikadai grabs his wrist. “Stop spacing,” he says matter-of-factly, leading Inojin down the pavement, dodging people moving in all directions around them. 

Inojin’s instinct is to talk back, but he finds that he doesn’t have a retort, and this is a battle he doesn’t mind surrendering. He likes it too, the Nara boy leading him, firm grip around his wrist. He starts to wonder if Shikadai can feel his pulse, and he’s not sure what he feels about all that - whether it would be a good or a bad thing if Shikadai could. 

He does feel disappointed though, when Shikadai lets go when they gather with the rest of the group in front of _ shateki _ stall. Boruto is at the front, swearing to Himawari that he’s going to win her something. Sarada boasts that she could probably do better. Mitsuki has already paid the vendor and is taking aim, ignoring the noise around him. Inojin makes a purposeful effort _ not _ to look at Himawari (he _ still _ thinks that she’s cute, and that whole situation is still unresolved and just feels so _ wrong _), so he diverts his gaze to Shikadai instead. 

At some point, Shikadai notices, and looks at Inojin. He smiles a little, and Inojin finds genuine mirth in that deep green. It's soothing, a reminder for Inojin to get out of his own heard. He's a worrier, and he thinks a lot of stupid thoughts, and he should really cast that aside and try to enjoy the moment. It's just him and his friends on a balmy summer evening. Boruto's hollering something, Sarada yelps, then scolds. Out of the corner of his eye, Inojin registers Mitsuki handing a fluffy thing, large and yellow with large eyes and ears to Himawari. He imagines her beaming. 

On the way home, Inojin pulls Shikadai back a little, so they’re walking at the back of the group. Inojin isn’t the silent brooding type, and he’s been brooding a lot lately. “Hey, I’ve been thinking.”

Shikadai blinks a couple of times, “you’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

Inojin thinks it’s kind of mean, but very observant. “Yeah, yeah, shut up,” he manages to laugh, “but really uh - I’ve been thinking, what do you do if you like someone you’re not supposed to?” 

Shikadai shrugs, “I didn’t even know that there were people you’re not allowed to like.” 

Inojin can’t bring himself to go into specifics. He really can’t. It’s too much.

“I haven’t really thought about this before,” Shikadai continues. “I guess I might have an answer for you later on. Sorry man, I can’t really help.” 

Inojin sighs a little, but smiles regardless, because he really does appreciate just being listened to, and having his stupid question get serious consideration. He gets that little things like this matter. “It’s okay, haha - I kinda didn’t really expect you to have an answer.” 

To be completely honest, a small part of him _ did _ expect Shikadai to have an answer - because he’s always had answers before. Shikadai’s a fucking genius. He doesn’t try hard all the time - only on the things that really interest him, but he’s smart. And he’s always been able to give Inojin answers, solutions to any kind of life problem. Or at least a hint in the right direction. 

Inojin forgets about this whole conversation until the leaves on campus start to turn. There’s a chilly breeze this afternoon, when he walks out of the main building alongside Chō Chō. She’s asking him about their history assignment, followed by the Akimichi family’s invite to a family and friends dinner to celebrate her parents wedding anniversary. Inojin comments on how nice that is, and that he’ll pass it onto his parents. He stops when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he checks to find that it’s Shikadai calling. Chō Chō lingers as he takes the call. 

“_ Hey can you wait up for me? _” 

Inojin nods a little, even though Shikadai obviously can’t see, “Yeah sure, I’m out front.” 

“_ Are you with Chō Chō? Dang - I keep forgetting you’re in the same class -” _

“It’s okay, I’ll explain.” Inojin’s a little confused - they could just walk part way home together, the three of them - they have for a long time. But Shikadai rarely asks for things like this, so it just feels right to try and make it work. It’s just one afternoon. 

Inojin fibs a little to Chō Chō, who rolls her eyes and mockingly scolds him for making a _ poor, defenceless _ girl walk home alone. Inojin rolls his eyes in response, groaning. She laughs and lets him off. They all know she’s far from poor and defenceless, and Chō Chō probably knows more than she lets on about the whole situation anyway. Inojin definitely knows that about her in hindsight. 

Shikadai arrives maybe ten minutes later, while Inojin is zoned out, eyes unfocused and pointed straight ahead at the space in front of him. “Heyyyy,” he drones, waving his hand in front of Inojin’s face to get his attention. 

Inojin blinks, straightening up and laughing a little, “Ah, sorry about that. What’s up? Are we just walking home or -” 

“I have an answer. To your question.”

Inojin pauses, scouring his recent memory for any questions he had asked Shikadai. Nothing relevant comes to mind. 

Shikadai sighs at the sight of Inojin’s blank expression, “your question about people you’re not supposed to like. At the end of summer.” 

“Oh right.” 

“I was thinking about it.” 

Nervousness starts to set in. Inojin starts to say that he doesn’t need to worry about it - he hasn’t really thought about that question for a while anyways - 

“I guess you might _ feel _ like you’re not supposed to like someone. And knowing you, you’re going to get super pissy and sad about it. You always think a lot, but also not in a smart way.” 

Inojin bristles, but he’s at least intelligent enough to know when he’s hearing something true and useful, so he saves that feeling of wanting to punch Shikadai (only lightly of course) for later. 

“I think you should focus more on what you’re going to do about what you think you’re doing that’s wrong. And judge yourself on that basis.” 

It’s truthful, and gets to the core of what Inojin was probably trying to think about all along. When Inojin laughs, it’s coloured with relief, now that he finally understands what’s been plaguing him. “Thanks Shikadai, I don’t think I would’ve thought of it that way by myself.” 

“Yeah, you’re smart, but not _ that _ smart,” Shikadai grins. 

Inojin _ really _ wants to punch him now (nicely). Instead, they walk home together, falling into a familiar easiness that has piled up between them, year on year. Inojin thinks, as the sunset casts a warm glow across his vision, that he would really be lost without Shikadai. And when he looks across at his friend, he sees that unshaking green that has always, always been steady and patient and certain, and then he feels like he’s _ falling _. 

He feels that sense of dread again, that sinking feeling in his stomach - in his _ heart _ , when his thoughts betray him and he starts to wonder if this is also something that he isn’t _ supposed _ to feel this way about, but he _ does _. 

And he tries to apply Shikadai’s advice, but he can’t figure it out in the moment - what it is that he’s meant to do that’s going to redeem him, that will put him in the right, and make him feel less wrong. But a small voice also wonders how wrong is he really?

They reach a familiar intersection where they part ways, and Inojin smiles the kind of smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes, that he himself hates. He waves, and he watches Shikadai turn away. He lingers at that spot on the pavement, thinking swirling thoughts along the lines of how foolish and hopeless he is, and he’s in the wrong _ again _ . 

But then he thinks about that green, that ridiculous Nara green, and he realises he is _ helpless _ in addition to all of the above other things, and maybe, _ maybe _ it’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be fluffy, but something happened and I think this is as good as I'll manage


End file.
